Chapter 7
Jules felt a little lighter as she followed Cal from the pizza parlor out to his Jeep Wrangler.
But was that because they’d shared the best meal she’d had in weeks?
Maybe. Her stomach was definitely happier.
Or was her mood better because she was starting to find his ability to match her snarkiness…
amusing? Possibly, although she’d never admit as much to him.
She considered his offer to help protect Abby, and her initial spike of hope was quickly squashed under the weight of experience and practicality.
Reassurances from law enforcement, like Cal’s “anything I can do,” always proved empty words.
For that reason alone, she doubted she’d see Cal Colton again after tonight.
She was on a solo mission to keep Abby safe, and no blue-eyed, charming small-town sheriff was likely to change that.
A pity, a renegade voice in her head whispered. He’s easy on the eyes and easy to talk to as well. As they crossed the parking lot, she cast a side glance toward him, admiring the cut of his jaw and shadow of stubble on his cheeks. Oh, yeah. Very easy on the eyes.
Gritting her back teeth, she shut up that voice fast. Until she knew Abby was safe and happy again, she had no room in her life for distractions. Not her schooling, not side hobbies and certainly not a romantic relationship.
When they reached his vehicle, he opened the passenger door for her, and Pilot hopped in and settled on the seat, panting and content.
She had to crack a grin.
“Sorry, pal,” Cal told Pilot. “The lady gets to ride shotgun tonight.” He pointed to the back seat, and with a chuff of disappointment, Pilot crawled into the back.
She settled in the passenger seat then twisted to pat Pilot’s head. “Thank you, puppers. Who’s a good boy?”
Pilot wagged his tail and moved to the open window to sniff the night air.
As Cal drove her back to the gift shop to pick up her car, he resumed quizzing her, this time about the kind of stuff that might be discussed on a first date. But since this wasn’t a date, she saw no need to give him more than terse, evasive answers.
“Where do your parents live? Do you get back to see them often?”
“No. Mom’s in Portland, last I heard. Dad died.”
“What do you like to do in your free time?”
“What free time?”
“Read any good books lately?”
“If I don’t have free time, when am I supposed to read?”
“Okay. Umm, do you follow any sports teams?”
“Yes.”
He shot her a lopsided grin. “Just yes? Am I supposed to guess which team, which sport?”
“It’s a free country. Guess if you want.”
He seemed to relish the challenge. “Okay then. You lived in Canada for a while. Maybe the hockey bug caught you?” When she said nothing, he said, “No? Okay, baseball? If Mom’s in Portland maybe…the Mariners?”
More silence.
“Although I hear there’s a movement afoot to bring an MLB team to Portland.”
“Don’t know. Don’t care.”
“Huh. Football then? I know a lot of women like football.”
She yawned.
“Am I even close?” he asked, dividing his attention between her and the road.
“You seem to think only men play sports.” She turned a smug look toward him. “What about the WNBA? Or the National Women’s Soccer League?”
“Touché,” he said with a nod. “So women’s basketball and soccer?”
She shrugged. “Not really. Just calling out your sexism.”
He laughed. “My bad. I do know better. Don’t tell my sisters, or I’ll get an earful from them as well.”
She should have told him she doubted she’d ever meet his sisters, but he’d just pulled his Jeep into the gift shop parking lot, so she let it drop.
As she climbed out of the Wrangler, she modulated her attitude long enough to thank him for the meal. She could be snippy, but she wasn’t an ingrate.
“My pleasure,” he returned, and the twinkle in his eyes said he meant it.
But had he enjoyed dinner because he had skillfully cracked her reserve with his charming grins and gotten her to admit things she didn’t usually share?
Or was his delight based in some ill-formed belief that they shared an attraction?
Before she closed the Jeep door, she reached in the back seat to scratch Pilot behind the ears and tell him goodnight.
Cal rolled down the passenger window and called out, “If I wanted to talk with you again tomorrow, where should I look? At the Catch-a-Wink or here at the shop?”
She squared her shoulders. “You tell me. Will the police still insist I keep the shop closed tomorrow?”
He raised his hand from the steering wheel, gesturing vaguely. “Initially, I’d think. The investigation is only a day old. We’re lucky to have an ID on the victim this quickly.”
“Because he was in the system.”
He hesitated. “Right. So where should I look for you tomorrow?”
“You’re still acting like I’m a suspect.
I already answered all your questions this morning—plus some at dinner—and if I am a suspect, I should have been allowed a lawyer present.
” From the corner of her eye, she saw the black cat creep around the corner of the gift shop and huddle by the down spout.
“Should we consider you a suspect?” Cal asked, bringing her full attention back to him.
She scowled. “Do you really think I’d tell you if you should?”
“Likewise. Do you really think I’d tell you what evidence we might have where you’re concerned?”
She stiffened. “That sounds like you are investigating me.” The notion was appalling and fed her distrust and dislike of police.
“Do you have something to hide?” he asked, arching a dark eyebrow.
She gritted her back teeth. “Can you give me a straight answer?”
The corner of his mouth twitched. “Does it bother you to have your question answered with a question?”
“Are you always this annoying?” She folded her arms over her chest, scowling at him.
“Have I annoyed you?”
She started to mutter something dark under her breath, but caught it on her tongue. He was teasing her, goading her. Recognizing his game, she refused to let him win. She chewed the inside of her cheek, deciding on a worthy comeback.
“Your ability to state the obvious is impressive, Sheriff. Did they teach you that in ‘Duh 101’ or did you hone those keen detective skills all on your own?”
Sheriff Colton threw his head back and let a musical belly laugh fly. “Good one, Jules. Well played!”
He wiped the corner of his eyes with a finger, and a self-satisfied grin quivered on her lips. She faked a cough to cover it, lifting a hand to hide her mouth.
After bringing his amusement under control, Cal raised four fingers to his temple in a salute. “Good night, Ms. Bailey. Count on seeing me again tomorrow. I will find you, wherever you choose to spend the day.”
With that, he pulled away, the bits of gravel in the parking lot crackling beneath the Jeep’s tires.
She stood, frozen for a moment, letting his parting words replay in her head. I will find you, wherever…
Chase Hamilton, Abby’s stalker, had said much the same thing to Abby time and again. Not always in such pointed terms, but always with a subtle promise that she would never be rid of his menace.
Jules shivered, but not because of the dropping temperature as the sun disappeared below the horizon.
Before Cal had tossed out that final promise, she’d actually found herself equal parts amused and irritated by their repartee.
The teasing back-and-forth allowed her to maintain her snarky persona while safely exploring the boundaries of Cal Colton, a man she found surprisingly engaging.
She shook her head, reminding herself she’d be foolish to fall for any vague promises or put her faith in any law enforcement officer again.
She’d been down that road and disappointed too many times already.
With a sigh, she tried to set aside the disquiet of his parting words, the reminder of Chase’s stalking and the tension that had hovered all day since the body had been found near the gift shop.
Good grief! A murder at her doorstep was the last thing she needed if she wanted to lie low around law enforcement.
After digging her car key out of her purse, she shivered a bit thinking about the creeps who had been in the store last night and the body found beneath the sculpture this morning. A new possibility occurred to her and she paused, her heart thrashing.
Could Chase be connected to the murder? Was he the man in the red hoodie?
She dredged up her memories of Chase Hamilton’s physical description, the sound of his voice.
Was he that tall, that broad-shouldered?
Was he killing random people in Jules’s proximity to send a message?
To frighten her away from town? The possibility seemed unlikely, yet chilling.
But, to the best of her knowledge, Chase wasn’t aware of who she was, or her position as the manager of the gift shop, and she’d never been in a courtroom with him.
She had no social media presence, no photograph associated with her published graduate school research. Did he even realize Abby had a sister?
Hearing a pitiful mewl, her gaze returned to the small black cat, who looked poised and ready to run if she got too close…
but also eager to see what food offering Jules had for her.
She angled her head as she studied the scruffy feline.
“I can’t keep feeding you tuna. And you’re not really safe out here, even with that house I made. ”
The cat crept a few steps closer. “Meow.”
Joy’s high-pitched mewl melted her heart. “I’ll bring you some real cat food when I come in the morning. For now, I think there’s some Vienna sausage about to expire in the storage room. How does that sound?”
“Merp.”
“Okay. I’ll be right back.” Once she scrounged up an older can of canned sausage from the storage room, she returned to the back door, where the black kitten hovered at the threshold, peeking inside.
She dumped the meat on a paper plate, broke it into bites and carried it to the stoop. “Here, you go, Joy. Eat up.”
Although the cat scurried away when Jules approached, stopping long enough to hiss over her shoulder, by the time Jules was in her car and pulling out of the parking lot, Joy was gobbling the sausage.
Her heart twisted. She hated to see the poor, cranky kitten scrabbling for food and vulnerable to predators.
Could she catch Joy? Bring her inside? What was she supposed to do with a kitten, especially one that was largely wild and armed with four razor-sharp death mittens?
She told herself she was cuckoo to pursue this path, but when she reached her motel room, she would place a call to the local animal rescue group to inquire about borrowing a humane trap.
She wrapped her arms around herself to ward off the chill in the air.
Casting her gaze around the dark North Dakota plains, she shivered at the vast emptiness of the surrounding grassland.
Only last night, two men had met out here at the isolated sculpture, and one man had ended up dead.
A man she’d seen alive, talked to just moments before he was killed.
In the distance, a coyote yipped and whined, and a disturbing thought she’d been trying to hold at bay finally presented itself at the fore of her mind.
The man in the red hoodie had clearly been concerned about cameras capturing his likeness.
And while he had hidden his face from Jules, what was stopping the killer from coming to permanently silence her?
She shuddered and considered calling Cal—no, don’t allow yourself to be distracted with his casual manner.
She chewed her bottom lip and weighed asking the sheriff about her own safety during this investigation.
But all she had to do was remember how dismissive every law enforcement officer she’d trusted with Abby’s safety had been to know when it came to her protection, she was on her own.